


Transport

by WoxliMischief



Category: Let's Play (Webcomic)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-07-20
Packaged: 2021-03-04 17:55:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25400482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WoxliMischief/pseuds/WoxliMischief
Summary: The argument between Sam and Charles about her use of public transportation comes to a head.
Relationships: Charles Jones/Sam Young (Let's Play)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 115





	1. Conflict

BRRZT!!! Sam’s alarmed screamed her awake at 5:30 in the morning as usual. She crawled her way out of bed, cramming her glasses on her face and moaning, “Bowser, walkies!”

Then she stopped and groaned to herself. Bowser was with Mrs. Whipple last night. She had texted while Sam was still out saying she was going to bed and that Sam could pick him up the next afternoon.

For a few moments, Sam contemplated going back to bed, but couldn’t find the sense in it. So she proceeded with her routine, and found herself walking into the Daily Grind an hour before she normally would.

“Morning Sam! Early meeting?” called Dee from behind the counter. 

“No, Bowser is with Mrs. Whipple so my routine was much shorter today. Can I get the usual? Maybe add an extra shot to it.”

“No problem, girl!” Dee chirped happily, setting about making her drink. “How was your weekend?”

Sam flushed. “F-fine. I um…”

Dee chattered on, used to Sam stumbling over answers. “And how come Bowser was with Mrs. Whipple? Did you go out last ni…?” Dee trailed off as she turned and caught the expression on Sam’s face. “Girl now I gotta know. Link isn’t here yet. What did you do?”

“N-nothing!” If anything, Sam’s face glowed brighter. 

“I’m not buying that. Did you have a date?” 

“Y-yessss….” Sam’s eyes shifted around the room looking at anything but her friend’s face.

“Well, now. That’s unexpected. Did you have a good time?” Sam nodded emphatically, still glowing like a small star. “Good, that’s what matters. You gonna tell me who he is? I’m guessing he?” Sam nodded, smaller this time.

“Charles…” She rasped in a near whisper.

Dee’s eyes shot to her hairline. “Your boss. The scary one?”

“He’s not scary, really.” Sam softened. “Yes he’s my boss. It’s complicated.”

“You don’t do anything half way do you? Your boss is your new boyfriend?”

“N-no! He’s not my boyfriend. It was a date, that’s all. We’re not seriously involved.”

“Involved enough for you to leave Bowser at a sitter overnight.” Dee’s tone implied a lot of naughtiness. 

“Dee!” Sam flamed up again and tried to hide behind one of the displays.

“Sorry Sam, I’ll stop. You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

“I’m...not certain there’s anything to talk about. He’s a beautiful man and he finds me...interesting for some reason. I don’t get much interest, Dee.”

Dee sighed sadly, disappointed again that her friend couldn’t see her own worth. “You get more than you notice, girl.”

Sam didn’t say anything, only picked up the mug that Dee sat down for her. “Hey the art looks amazing. You get a new person to do the board?” Subtle subject changes, that was Sam.

“Marshall did that actually.” Dee smiled up at her board.

Sam brightened and studied the board further. “He did?! I loved the art I saw in his sketchbook but he’s never said anything.” Sam and Dee, dithered a bit longer before other customers started trickling in for pre-work caffeine and breakfast. Sam finished her coffee quickly, and wandered across the street.

She got on the bus, thinking she was going to be early for work. She considered bringing Charles a coffee but she didn’t want to be too clingy after their talk about...boundaries.

Sam gazed out the window of the bus but all she saw was candlelight, piercing blue eyes, a charmingly amused smirk and a curious heat directed at her. 

She nearly missed her stop but she snapped out of her reverie in time to wander into work more than half an hour earlier than she normally did. Lucy wasn’t even here yet. She set about making some coffee.

MEANWHILE…

Charles knocked again, and waited. No answer. He pulled his phone from his pocket and selected Samara’s name. It rang. And rang. And rang. No answer. Her voicemail clicked on and he ground out. “Miss Young, I am outside your door waiting to take you to work.” As he hung up, a sound behind him made him turn.   
“Hello, Benjamin.” Charles greeted neutrally. 

“Charles, if you’re here for Sam I heard her leave a while ago.”

Charles raised an eyebrow. He hadn’t decided if it was convenient or supremely inconvenient that he happened to know Samara’s neighbor. “I see. Thank you Benjamin.”

“Is something wrong?” Marshall tilted his head inquiringly. “She’s been exceptionally jumpy, and she was gone most of the weekend.”

“Not that I’m aware of, Benjamin.” Charles fought to keep his voice smooth. “I was just here to offer Miss Young a ride to work. She’s mentioned some trouble on the bus recently. I’m concerned for her safety.”

“Did you text her first? It’s not like Sam to leave someone waiting for them.”

Charles thought of a number of responses and swallowed them all down. He cleared his throat. “I should have. I apologize for disturbing you, Benjamin.” He spun away and walked back down to the car.

As he navigated through morning rush hour traffic, Charles absently tapped his thigh, thinking about the previous weekend. Samara had delighted him. She’d been brave, trusting. Curious. Kind.

He already wanted more, and that was a problem. He’d already side stepped many of his securely placed boundaries for her comfort. She was barrelling her way through the rest in her adorable, oblivious way and utterly charming him.

He needed a plan. Some distance. Perspective.

But his mind just kept returning to Samara and what could happen to a beautiful young woman riding a bus alone. 

His knuckles gripped the steering wheel until they turned white. 

…..

Charles swept into the office with a forbidding glower on his face. “Good mo-” Uncharacteristically, Lucy cut her sentence off upon seeing the icy anger in his face and quickly looked back down to what she was working on. 

“Umed, is Miss Young in the office?” Charles asked coldly, standing behind his developer. 

“Yes..she’s in her office. She seemed pretty wound up and said she wanted to get started on the HR paperwork for the week. I think she’s had a lot of caffeine.”

“Excellent. I need to meet with her this morning. Please be aware that I’ll be unavailable for the next hour. Can you field any questions about the project until then?” Charles held his face to stillness, willing the man not to ask any awkward questions.

“...Yeeeeah. I can do that Charles. Do I need to run interference?”

“There’s no need for any of that. Miss Young and I need to work out transportation details. That’s all.”

“All right, Charles.” Umed didn’t sound convinced but his too-perceptive employee wore that suspicious tone around him for the last few weeks. All he could do was be dismissive.

Charles worked his way back to the private offices and stood in her doorway, just watching her work. She would never know how lovely she was when all her focus was on something. None of the nerves getting in the way of the pure shining beauty she didn’t believe she possessed. Sometimes Charles got lost in watching her work. 

He allowed himself to enjoy the view for a few moments before clearing his throat. He was here for a purpose.

“Miss Young, I’m surprised to find you here.” He preached at her, as he firmly shut her office door, and he dropped his voice to a more enticing and dangerous tone. “I thought I made my stance on public transportation and my interest in your well-being clear. Evidently, the conversation didn’t take.”

“Ch-charles. I understood it. B-but I told you I don’t mind the bus and we had an agreement about distance. I got up early. I just came to work.” Samara worried her lip in her adorable way, “I just got your voicemail.” She added in a tiny voice.

“I see. Well as your employer, your friend, and your lover, I cannot countenance you riding that infernal transportation device!”

“Charles, we aren’t a couple. So you don’t get to dictate to me as my boyfriend, and as my boss, how I get to work is none of your business unless I start failing to show up!” Sam’s backbone had shown up. And just like it always did it sent a pleasant shiver running straight down his spine. Nonetheless…

“Miss Young, I do believe we need to discuss this further in a more private setting. I’ll hear you out, then I expect you to hear me? Is that clear?”

“Yes, Charles. I...I can do that. This weekend?”

“No Miss Young. You’ll accompany me home, tonight.”

“I can’t do that! Mrs. Whipple has had Bowser all weekend.”

“I can promise that you’ll be home tonight to get your pup. Please inform the inestimable Mrs. Whipple you may be a tad late.”

“A-all right Charles.”

“Excellent. Back to work, Miss Young.” Charles gave her a wicked smile before turning and leaving for his own office. He’d hope to give her some time before introducing this side of himself, but really, something must be done.


	2. Anticipation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sam and Charles are heading to his penthouse, Sam is nervous but eager to have the conflict ended.  
> Charles is behaving oddly for someone who seemed so upset.

She was chewing her thumb again, Charles noticed absently. Samara had no idea how distracting he found her nervous habits. Before the previous few weeks they’d been a source of frustration, watching the little mouse of a girl bury herself in nervous ticks and enormous clothes.

Now he found them frustrating for entirely new reasons. Especially when it involved her fingers. And her mouth. 

He sucked a breath through his nose and focused on the road, shifting gears. “Carefully, Jones.” He warned himself. His operation tonight needed to be delicate.

He needed to not go too far for both their sakes.

….

Samara’s mind was filled with visions of Charles. Towering over her, fury cold in his eyes. Holding her while she wept. Doing...other things. 

She managed to bite back the moan this time.

She glanced over at him, his face a mask like it always was. It struck her how much more open his face had become since she started working as his assistant.

Since he started allowing her freedoms he had probably never intended and she still couldn’t believe this beautiful man wanted to touch her.

“Charles, Mrs. Whipple said she’d keep Bowser for the night again. She had plans with some of her friends and evidently they’re spoiling him rotten. He might not ever want to come home to me.” She half joked, trying to lighten some of the tension that had been between them since that morning.

He glanced at her out of the side of his eyes, his mouth softening a tiny bit. “I’m glad to hear it. Not to worry, Samara, Welshman aren’t that quick to give up their loyalties once they’ve given them. The pup will happily return to your arms as soon as he sees you.”

She opened her mouth about to ask a cheeky question but thought better of it as she recalled a conversation from a quiet restaurant, “I don’t do attachments, Samara, not permanent ones. Not any more. Before this goes any further I need you to understand what that means. I will not be your boyfriend. We are not a couple. We are friends, we can be lovers if you can accept this. I will be good to you, treat you with respect, deference, care. But that’s all it will be. There’s no future in this. I’m not open to changing.”

Her heart clenched a little as she heard those words in her mind, and her response. “I...I can’t say that I understand why but I understand what you’re asking me. I’m not experienced enough to say what I want for the future, but right now, I want you. I haven’t felt...things for many people in my life. Every time I’ve come to this point with someone, they’ve rejected me. I’ve been too afraid to even hope for this much. I like having you as a friend. I feel comfortable when you touch me, hold me. As for the rest, I can only promise I’ll try. Is that enough for you?”

In her mind’s eye she still saw his smile, felt him raise her hand to his mouth. “I can work with it. If things change, Samara, you have to tell me. Hurting you is the absolute last thing I’d ever want to do.”

Her vision cleared as he pulled into the parking structure of his building. “Charles, since I’ve got more time than I thought, would you like me to make dinner? We obviously have more than we anticipated to work out about our arrangement.” She winced at the words that just left her mouth.

“Something simple would be fine. The kitchen is pretty well stocked. You needn’t cook for me in my own home Samara. You’re a guest.”

“I-I...I think something to do will make me feel more comfortable. Please?” She pleaded with her eyes as he assessed her.

“All right Samara. But listen well. Not every disagreement needs to be comfortable.”

Samara felt the familiar sick feeling of pending confrontation welling in her gut and started curling in on herself instinctively. Charles caught her hand, and tugged. She turned with a start.

“None of that, Bunty. For this to work, we have to be very honest with each other. Communication is more important. You needn’t fear me. Have I ever done anything that wasn’t in your best interests?” He lifted her palm to his lips and kissed it softly, letting the heat of his mouth warm her. “Sometimes it’s in my best interests as well, but that is just a happy coincidence.” He murmured that against her palm, the vibrations traveling through her arm and making her shiver. 

She pulled her hand away, nervously tucking it back into her other arm and wondered aloud “How did you get so good at getting your own way?” His only answer was a smirk. He could be so infuriating. 

So quickly she wasn’t sure how it happened, Charles had gotten out of the car and circled to her side. He opened her door and helped her out of the car like some kind of courtly knight. It always flustered her when he behaved like this. “I could have done that.”

“Yes, I’m aware, but why should you have to? I’m a gentleman. I’ll always help a lady from her seat.”

Sam grumbled under her breath but knew if she argued this point she’d just work herself up before the serious discussion began. 

Charles held the door open for her but caught her on the way in, dropping a quick indulgent kiss to the top of her head and murmuring. “You know where the kitchen is, Bunty. I hope you don’t mind if I shower while you cook.”

“I th-thought you wanted to talk.” She stumbled.

“Yes, Samara, and I want your undivided attention for the discussion. It will happen after dinner, since you have the time.”

She gulped, and proceeded him into the spacious penthouse, marvelling all over again at the light, airy home her...something...lived in

“A-all right.” She squared her shoulders and marched into the kitchen. 

…

Charles grinned from the door as his Bunty found her confidence once she started bustling about his kitchen. She never ceased to surprise him at the oddest moments. He closed and locked the front door and immediately turned to climb his stairs, pausing briefly at the overlook to glimpse her from above. Tonight could be fun, if he did this correctly.

More importantly she’d be safer.

He turned on his shower and let the water heat while he worked quickly to prepare his bedroom. He flipped his sheets back and pulled the restraint straps that he kept tucked under the mattress around the bed and secured them in place. He paused, bracing his palm over his mouth in contemplation before selecting, soft, velcro cuffs he placed near the center of the headboard. These would be secure but if she felt unsafe he could remove them rapidly.

He didn’t want to push her. 

He showered quickly, and swapped his lenses for his tastefully framed glasses. Samara liked those.

He smiled. Normally he’d wear softer clothing, more casual but he thought perhaps he’d make a few...slight changes. He put his jeans, as he customarily did, but instead of a pull over he found a bright blue fitted Oxford shirt. He left the top two buttons undone, but he was aware he was dressed to fluster.

He crept back down the stairs to the smell of something lovely coming from his kitchen. He approached her as she was dishing something that looked like a stir fry over some rice on his utilitarian but elegant dishware. He wrapped his arms around her waist...unable to stop himself.

“This smells heavenly, Samara.” He spoke in a low tone into her ear, and watched the flush crawl up her neck. “Let me carry that for you.” He let his breath drift over her neck and ear and lightly brushed the softest spot there with his mouth before releasing her and carrying their plates to his dining table. She followed with their cutlery. 

They ate in near silence. He’d been hungrier than he thought. He realized he skipped his lunch today, lost in his plans for this evening. He shook his head at himself, for what felt like the hundredth time that day.

“Something wrong with dinner?” Samara asked, her nerves palpable in her voice.

“Not at all, Bunty. This is not what I would have made but I think I may have to change that. Can you leave me the recipe?”

“S-sure. I can do that. Or, I can email it to you. That would probably be easier.”

“That is acceptable, thank you. Have you finished?” He frowned at her plate. Her food was only about half gone, but she hadn’t been eating for a few minutes.

“Y-yes. I’m not overly hungry.” 

“I see. Let me see to these dishes and we’ll sit down for our chat, shall we?”

Before she could answer, Charles stood and snapped up the dishes from the table, proceeding to the kitchen and setting to work. He had a small, knowing smile on his face the whole time.

…

The man was so frustrating.

Sam chewed her thumb while she watched him in the kitchen. The bright blue shirt he wore made his eyes look like they were glowing.

He looked amused.

He looked predatory.

Sam thought she should probably get out of there. She started looking around for her bag.

“Something wrong Samara?” A dry, amused tone came from above her head. Evidently he’d finished the dishes.

“I was looking for my bag. I should probably go home soon.” She excused to the floor.

She felt a large, warm hand pinch her chin and lift her face. “We haven’t talked yet, Bunty.”

“That’s not my fault!” She chirped, feeling a bit of a panic. She recognized the heat in his eyes from the previous day when they’d….well they had.

“Samara…” He stroked the side of her face with his thumb and lightly brushed her lower lip. “You don’t need to be afraid of me. Haven’t you learned that yet?”

“Of course I h-have. I just don’t like arguing with anyone.”

“Tell me, again, why you insist on riding the bus, Samara. I need to understand this.”

“Oh Charles,” She sighed. She’d had this conversation with her dad too many times to count. She was never able to make him understand. It took her mother’s intervention to get him to relent. She didn’t have a champion when it came to arguing with Charles. “I needed to do things on my own. I don’t need a protector. I was being stifled. The apartment, the bus...they’re my bids for freedom. You don’t honestly think I enjoy my dad’s protective umbrella do you?”

“I’d never thought of it. You didn’t seem to show any interest in coming out from under it where I could see you, until recently.”

“You know perfectly well it doesn’t work that way with Dad! You have to go around him, not through him. I complied at work, but at home, I wrote a clause into my lease that prevented him from paying my rent for me.”

Charles looked stunned and she smiled a little. “Does that surprise you?”

“Actually, it shouldn’t. That’s very clever. However, Samara, my concern for you has nothing to do with your ability to take care of yourself. I know how resourceful and competent you are.”

Sam squirmed. Every time he said something like that she struggled to let herself hear it. Like he knew what she was thinking, “I mean it Samara. I’ve watched you adapt to any number of situations that would have left a lesser woman gaping and helpless. This is different.”

“Different how? I don’t understand.” 

He shifted gears on her, like he often did. “Come upstairs with me.”

…

He was an idiot.

He was too abrupt. It was the wrong time to say it.

His breath was caught in his throat. She was going to run…

“All right, but I’m not sure that will get this discussion finished.”

He felt his chest expand again.

…

Charles smiled down at her. “I find I need a demonstration to get my point across. Before we go, I need to ask you some things. Do you trust me?”

She paused, suspicious, “If I didn’t, I never would have come to this house, Charles.”

He seemed to relax a little. “That’s reassuring to hear. Do you understand that anything that happens between us has to be your choice?”

Her face flamed again. “Y-yes Charles.”

“Good, Samara. Come with me.” He took her hand, and led her up the stairs.

…

Charles thought his heart might leap out of his throat when she reiterated her trust in him.

This girl really was far too precious. His stained hands ought not to have touched her, but it was far too late for that. She’d given him a precious gift and he was going to be selfish enough to keep it for as long as they both kept to the rules.

He guided her into his bedroom, where he’d spent the previous night introducing her into the softer side of physical pleasure. Where he’d enticed her with the slowest, softest caresses and kisses he could manage until he thought he might expire from the pressure.

And he proceeded to do it again. 

He cupped her face in his hands, running the pad of his thumb along her lower lip until she opened for him, her light gasp giving him the invitation to taste her.

His kiss was slow, deliberate. He darted his tongue in, daring her to take until she followed him, deepening the kiss in slow, methodical steps. He kept his hands still until he started to feel the tension melt from her body where it pressed against him lightly. He smiled against her mouth and kissed across her jaw to her ear.

“Have I told you that I love the way you respond, Samara? You’re absolutely lovely when you get lost in passion.” Her charming blush reappeared. He grasped her tiny waist and pulled her closer, gently nipping her ear and whispering seductions in her ear. “I don’t think I told you how much you distracted me every time you’d insinuate yourself into my arms. I don’t think you know what a powerful, beautiful woman you are, Samara, but my intention is that you won’t leave my bed until you understand it.”

She whimpered into his shoulder and he nearly changed his mind about what he was going to try this evening.

“Samara, look at me.” He ran his thumbs around the juncture of her charming blouse and distractingly tight skirt. “Remember what we spoke about yesterday?” Her eyes were hazy, so he prompted her. “About comfort, and consent?”

“If I want something to stop, say so.”

“That’s right, Bunty. That is always true. Always. If ever you need me to stop, you’re not happy, comfortable. Just tell me.” He dropped to his knees in front of her and rested his head against her belly. “Samara, when you take that bus alone, I’m frightened for you. It has nothing to do with your capabilities and everything to do with what I know of human nature. It’s not about our sexual or working relationship. It’s because you’re a young woman I respect and your safety is important.”

“I understand you value your freedom, I don’t wish to take that from you. On the contrary, I’ve been endeavoring to help you achieve it. So your blithe disregard for my concerns frustrates me. It’s not like you not to listen.”

“Charles I…” He cut her off with a kiss, a deep passionate one and he pulled her blouse out of her waistband, and slid his hands up her body slowly to remove it, leaving in her bra. He leaned back, gazing up at her. Her passion glazed eyes fought with her obvious search for words to respond to his concerns. He brought his mouth to her hip bones, gently kissing and nipping across her belly while he unhooked and unzipped her skirt. The garment fell away and he smoothed his hands down her lovely, bare legs to gently step her out of the skirt and her pumps. “One day, Bunty, I’ll have you wearing these, but not today.” He rose and guided her by the hand to the bed that dominated the room. 

He pulled her onto it beside him, facing her. He seduced her again with kisses, brushes of the mouth and hands. He cupped her bountiful breasts in both hands and murmured against her mouth. “Samara, your body is so lovely. You’re such a beautiful woman. Do you understand how enticing you are?” He asked again as he lightly bit her lower lip. 

“When your color rises and your mouth parts you look like a treat I want to devour.” He showed her by holding her hands and letting his mouth explore across her jaw, down her lovely throat to those same breasts. He nipped at the line of her bra gently, and soothed with his tongue before pushing her hands into the bed and grabbing the nipple that clearly stood against the lace of her bra between his teeth and gently squeezing, listening for her response.

Her hip lifted up off the bed, drawing a smile from him. He kept her hands in place, kissing his way down her flat belly, stopping every few inches to nip or lave her with his tongue. He could hear here panting. “Ch-charles!” She gasped. 

“Mmm, are you alright Bunty? He murmured into her belly, letting the vibrations from his voice play on her skin. “Do you need your inhaler? Do you need to stop?” He looked up at her, waiting for her response. “N-no!” She protested. 

“Good. Tell me if anything changes. What I’m going to do to you may be very intense. I need you to communicate with me. Can you do that? Are you up for a little challenge, Samara?” 

He watched her eyes. He saw her fighting with herself in every twitch of her jaw, the purse of her lips. He was about to let her hands go and soothe her when she said…

“Yes, Charles. Challenge me.”

…

What in heaven had just come out of her mouth?

Samara gaped at herself internally. Challenge? Just meeting this man’s eyes was a challenge.

What had she gotten herself into?

She eyed the older man who was now looking at her with what she could only describe as...wonder?

“Samara I need you to be sure…”

“Charles it’s starting to sound like you’re the one who isn’t sure what he wants.” WHERE HAD THAT LINE COME FROM. Sam’s mouth was running away with her. 

And just like every time she fed him a little bit of sass, his mouth quirked at her. “Fair point, Bunty. My apologies.” And his grip tightened on her hands. 

He continued his relentless assault down her body. He hadn’t done this the night before. Every time he started she’d squeaked. He’d been very tender with her.

He was being tender now...but direct. He was right, it was intense.

He insinuated himself between her legs and her thighs fell open in a way that shocked her.  
Before she had a chance to try and close them again she felt his mouth…

She gasped as wet heat closed over her mound, still covered by the panties he hadn’t removed. She felt a familiar pressure building in her belly as he slowly used his tongue and teeth over her garment. She squirmed, her hips reaching up trying to grab more of the tantalizing sensation. 

He used the position of his arms, still holding her hands to keep her pinned. All she could do was take it. It was maddening. 

Her fires stoked higher as he slowly applied more and more pressure, never stopping but never speeding up the way her body told her she wanted. She reached for her peak but she never seemed to find it.

Her body squirmed more. She started to pull at his hands trying to get free so she could do something.

She felt more than heard his chuckle as he rose to his knees and slid back up her body swiftly.

He pressed the length of his body against her and ground his thigh into her core as he kissed her more intensely than he ever had before, pulling her arms above her head and stroking the side of her tongue with his own as he worked her higher. 

She felt the liquid heat building and she was almost ready to tip when she heard another chuckle and he pulled away. He stood up and walked across the room.

He sat in that black chair in the corner, the one she had been trying to figure out the use for all weekend. She tried to rise to follow him.

Her hands were bound above her. She couldn’t get up.


	3. Resolve

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And we continue...

Sam stared blankly up at her bound wrists, vividly remembering a dream like this from not long ago. 

“Comfortable, Samara?” She heard a drawl from the dark corner of the room.

“No I am not comfortable! You.. you!”

“Yes? I what?” She could hear the smile. It was so infuriating. But she couldn’t say anything. She couldn’t find the words.

She lifted her head to glare at him. He sat there, lounging like a cat, one leg outstretched on the ottomon that accompanied the stark black leather chair. The other leg crossed, the way she’d seen it so many times before. His brilliant blue eyes bored into her. 

“I told you, Samara. All you have to do is ask for what you need. I’ll give it to you.”

She sputtered, still unsure what she planned to say.

“Are you frustrated, Samara? Wanting? Is your body strung tight and begging you for relief?” His voice was dark now. Heated. Heavy.

She made a mewling noise and nodded at him, her eyes huge and pleading. His hand flexed on his knee but that was the only indication he was moved.

“Then ask me for what you need.”

She opened her mouth...but no words came out.

…

The hardest thing Charles could recall doing was walking away from her in that moment. He was still poised to leap to her side at the slightest sign of distress.

Well, the wrong kind of distress.

Watching her squirm on his bed was perhaps the most fetching thing he’d seen in some time.

“Are you aching, Samara? Flushed with need?”

She didn’t speak, just stared at her with those huge eyes and that devastating look. Minx.

“Are your legs trembling? Is your body wound tight? Are you frustrated, Samara?” He kept his tone even, dark.  
She nodded at him slowly, begging with her eyes.

That’s not how he wanted her to ask.

“I need the words Samara. You need to ask me for what you want.”

“Y-you!” She bit the word out, urgently. “Please, Charles I want you. I want more.”

He stood up, smiling at her and watched her eyes as he popped the buttons down his Oxford and peeled it away. He stood there in his jeans and caressed her face, rubbing his thumb over her swollen lips again.

The little minx nipped him.

A soft growl left his throat and he dove at the bed, devouring her mouth and threading his fingers in her hair until she gasped.

“Do you want your hands free, Samara?”

She looked him in the eyes, and slowly shook her head no.

…

She was doomed. She’d thought she was frustrated before this man touched her.

It was nothing to the flames she felt now, licking up her thighs and belly, urging her for more.

She should feel helpless but instead she felt taken. Wanted. Desired.

It was heady. It made her brave.

“Do you want your hands free, Samara?” She heard him almost from a distance, her desire roared through her blood so strongly. 

She looked at him and only shook her head no. 

“I want more of this.”

And she watched something change in his eyes. He fell on her mouth again, kissing, licking, teasing her tongue as his hands roamed her body. She felt his hands at her breasts, scooping them out of her bra so he could have more of her skin. The fall of his thumbs on her nipples felt like he’d plucked a string going straight down to her groin and she bucked.  
Charles didn’t slow. He continued to pluck her body like a harp, devouring her lips, her neck and her breasts like a starving man while his hands worked her panties off of her. 

The first touch of his long fingers on her core nearly undid her. When he thrust his finger inside her and pressed she cried out.

That brought him around and he eased back from her mouth, his breathing rapid. “Easy, Bunty. I’ve got you.”

He slowed his hand, using his thumb to caress gentle circles around her swollen clitoris. It was almost painful. He built his pace in waves, bringing her higher until she almost burned and backing off a little to allow her to adjust. Soon she was shaking , legs trembling towards a peak she still struggled to find. “That’s it, Samara,” He breathed in her ear. “Reach for it,” and he thrust a second finger inside her. Her whole body lifted off the bed as she shattered.

Sam’s eyes swam from the pleasure and she barely registered as his hands withdrew. She felt her hands released from the soft strap that had been holding her in place.

She looked around for him but he soon joined her, jeans gone, his length wrapped in a condom as he pushed her back into the bed, kissing her softly.

“That was absolutely lovely Samara.” He breathed as he entered her. He pulled one of her soft legs around his hip and then entangled his fingers with hers, surging into her slowly. Kissing lips, her cheek, softly and beguilingly.

As Sam’s breath returned to her she could feel the fire building within her again. “More, Charles, please.”

“As you like,” He grinned down at her and pushed faster, harder, never letting go of her hands.   
Her body began to tremble again, straining towards him. “Do you have more for me, Samara?” He cajoled her.

Her body fell apart again, and she felt him above her give a powerful surge, his body shuddering against her. 

He fell beside her, and pulled her into his chest. The only sound was their ragged breathing.

…

Some time later, he held her as she was drifting. “Samara, we’ll need to get up early in the morning to go fetch you some clothing before work.”

She started, and sat up, “Charles we didn’t finish talking about the bus!”

He chuckled at her. “Bunty it wasn’t about the bus. Do you remember, I asked you, if I found myself able to give you a lift, if you would let me? And you agreed?”

…”Yes,” She said confused and a little contrite. 

“I asked you, Bunty. I didn’t tell you. I’m not your father to give you orders and expect them to be obeyed. I’m your friend, and your lover and I try to give you what you ask for. If you want to ask me not to fight you about the bus, you can. And we can keep talking about it until we find a solution.”

“Oh.” Sam fell back against the pillow, stunned. “That was...quite an object lesson, Charles.”

“I know.” He murmured smugly, dozing.


End file.
